


To Serve My People

by ReneeoftheStars



Series: Lethaa Daal and Naras Tyn [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Extended Family, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Original Character(s), Politics, She'll Kick Your Ass, Togruta - Freeform, and uncomfortable cultural questions, because i have no authority to be talking about this stuff, but it made sense for the character i made up, female original characters, lethaa is a badass, male original characters - Freeform, or tone down on the cultural aspect, she'll kick anyone's ass, she'll kick her own ass, she'll kick my ass, soooo much politics, star wars ocs - Freeform, star wars senator, tell me if i need to back off, togruta are all about family, togruta ocs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-07-01 18:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15779841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReneeoftheStars/pseuds/ReneeoftheStars
Summary: Lethaa Daal has decided to run for her planet's seat in the Galactic Senate. Her opponent: Hubrick Sha, the current long-time Senator who is determined to bring Shili fully into the "modern age". The problem is, he thinks the "Old Ways" of the Togruta are now pointless, have no place in current society. Lethaa intends to prove him wrong, and enacts the Rite of Leadership - an old challenge that, when paired with their formal debates, will determine the next Senator of Shili.





	1. Issuing a Challenge

**Author's Note:**

> I was already in the process of writing this, but I think it fits celebrate-the-clone-wars' writing wednesday prompt: Rival
> 
> Takes place roughly 5 years before Attack of the Clones

If this debate went on for much longer, Lethaa was beginning to think she might just challenge her opponent to direct combat after all, just to get it all over with.

The central meetinghouse was packed with just over one thousand Togruta, the air abuzz with the constant chatter and discussion among legislators and representatives from across Shili. The viewing benches ringed the raised dais and ascended four levels, their height dwarfed by the sweeping domed roof above them. Holocams hovered around the room, lenses trained on the dais as they transmitted the debate across the local Holonet channels for the public to watch.

As Lethaa’s eyes took in the sea of montrals, she tried to gauge the mood of the General Council. The majority of them seemed to be actively interested in the debate, looking down at the dais with keen eyes, some nodding, some shaking their heads. Other than a general sense of engagement, it was difficult to tell which candidate they liked listening to more.

She glanced over at her opponent. Standing ten paces away at his own podium, his orange skin bright under the portable lights, Hubrick Sha was in the middle of a speech about how he planned to make Shili and integral part of the Republic Senate. His massive montrals bobbed as his head moved, short lekku swaying as he turned in a circle to address the collective. Again, he assured the representatives that the best way for their world to be taken seriously as a major player in galactic politics was to fully adopt the idiosyncrasies of the Republic.

Hubrick Sha had served as Shili’s representative in the Galactic Senate for twenty-two years now, virtually uncontested in every reelection. As the sitting Senator, he already had a large following for his platform, and enjoyed endorsements from many regional mayors and magistrates from across the planet.

And Lethaa had to admit, his stances were appealing. He promised to secure Republic aid in deterring pirates and slavers that frequented Shili space. He vowed to make Shili a major player in galactic politics, and to make their world the center of a chief trade route in this quadrant. With an increase in trade, additional credits would go a long way to boosting the planet’s economy, perhaps even kickstarting new businesses and technology centers, as a few of their neighboring planets had.

_But that’s what he’s been promising for the last twenty years._

Since he’d run unopposed in almost every way, Hubrick Sha had never really been required to defend his positions, and other than the occasional admonishment by the Governor, had been free to represent Shili as he saw fit. Including supporting a bill that allowed the Trade Federation to continue their operations in the sector while increasing tariff rates, which had dealt a blow to Shili-run operations.

Lethaa may have been content – albeit begrudgingly – to allow him to continue his uninterrupted term had it not been for his newest scheme of how he was to achieve their people’s sought-after prominence. She was Representative of Adonda, the second-largest city on Shili, and serving her second five-year term in the General Council when she heard his speech. In the hour-long spiel, he had explained to the populace that in order to appear more enticing the Republic legislators, he would be taking measures to make the Togruta people seem more conforming to what he called “Republic culture”.

“Most of the galaxy believes we are still behind the times,” he had explained, his voice booming around the chamber with the aid of vocal amplifiers. “They think the Old Ways are antiquated and brutish. They do not recognize the potential of our people because they still see us as nomadic hunters. We need to change that perception, and prove that we are as civilized as the rest of them.”

She had been so angry, she’d almost leapt down from the bench to smack some sense into him. Compounded with his fruitless promises of the last two decades, his declaration had been too much. Two weeks later, after figuring out the requirements and process, Lethaa Daal had announced her campaign to run for the Galactic Senate.

Now, Hubrick Sha was _still_ speaking. _That man certainly thinks he has a lot to say._ But people liked listening to him. His voice was easy to hear, naturally loud and even, with a lot of personality backing every word. He always seemed to speak as though he were letting his audience in on a secret, or a joke. If Lethaa had ever considered a politician to be ‘charasmatic’, it would be Hubrick Sha. With his easy smile, Coruscant-made resplendent robes – only sparsely decorated with Togrutan designs – and extensive knowledge of the inner workings of the Senate, it was no wonder he had run unopposed for so long.

Lethaa didn’t have all that going for her. She’d been told from a young age that she was abrasive and serious, and that she could come off as intimidating. Entering the world of politics eight years ago hadn’t helped matters much, as she’d found herself short on patience when it came to the deliberations of the General Council. There was much to be done, and spending time hemming and hawing was not going to accomplish anything fast. But she had learned how to phrase her sentences, how to appeal to the assembly’s logic or emotions to prompt their response, and her forceful nature – once her “greatest flaw” – was now one of her greatest assets. With it, she had earned the respect and camaraderie of many in the Council. And it was with their support she hoped to take the Senate seat.

He was finally finishing this particular spiel. If there was one flaw in his speaking ability, it was that he had a tendency to take a singular phrase and repeat it ad nausea. In this case, it was “Republic culture”.

After two beats, Lethaa judged that Hubrick Sha was giving her a chance to speak. He’d been doing that during the whole debate, and even though she may not have agreed with several of his ideals, she appreciated the common courtesy.

“By ‘Republic culture’, as the Senator keeps referring to it, he actually means Human culture,” she corrected, resting her hand son her podium. “It is no secret that Humans – who have spread to countless worlds and now populate the majority of the Senate – have thrown their customs about the galaxy with little consideration of what is already in place. The last several Chancellors have been Human, and have obviously found no fault with spreading their ideologies and habits to other worlds. And in many instances, they present intelligent ideas and inventions that help shape the galaxy as a whole.

“But we are not Human. No matter how often they say we all have the same thought patterns and underlying motivations, the fact remains that it is not true. We are Togruta, not Human.” She thumped her fist over her heart for emphasis. “We do not need to orient ourselves to align with their methodologies simply because they believe their way is the only way.”

Hubrick Sha tuttued. “Now, now, my dear Representative, that’s a rather broad generalization.”

“Perhaps. But that generalization – that our practices make Humans uncomfortable – serves as the basis of your argument that we need to abandon our ways.”

“They Old Ways served their purpose,” Hubrick Sha granted. “They allowed us to form the great civilization we are today. But in this day and age, it is foolish to hold onto a past that has expired.”

“What you call ‘the Old Ways’, I call ‘Our Way’,” Lethaa shot back. “We cannot just abandon our culture to seem more ‘appropriate’ to the Senate. I have never heard of Mandalorians being asked to abandon their customs. I have never known the ways of the Jedi to be subjected to ridicule. If we push aside our history, forget our traditions, we will cease to exist as Togruta of Shili. There are trillions of beings in this galaxy, and only a handful hail from here. If we do not protect our culture, no one will.”

Lethaa paused as she heard hundreds of tongues mumble among themselves. These dignitaries might wear shoes when they walked across the Sacred Land, and simply take vows to join in marriage, and look forward to increased trade and intellectual exchange between other worlds – but Lethaa saw the concern on many faces as they considered what would be left of their ways if they continued to disregard them.

Lethaa raised her hands for silence, and the hush was immediate. “This is not to say that to embrace some amount of change is wrong. I agree with Senator Sha’s assessment that Shili has the potential to become a major force in the Senate, with great benefits to our people. But the _way_ we accept new technologies, new customs, should be done gradually, so it does not override all that we currently have.”

Nods all around. Lethaa’s heart was in her throat. At the moderators table to her left, she saw Governor Votaash incline their head slightly. _It’s now or never._ “A careful blending of old and new must be struck. And I wish to lead by example, and begin that union now.” Raising herself to her full height, she called out, “Before we conclude our campaigns for the seat in the Galactic Senate, I ask to enact the Rite of Leadership –”

The meetinghouse exploded into noise, so sudden that Lethaa was momentarily deafened. She saw Hubrick Sha’s violet eyes widen as he stuck up an arm in protest, but he couldn’t be heard over the din. Hands were waving, montrals dipping and twisting around as heads moved, and voices growing louder and louder as they exclaimed about the sudden development.

It took Governor Votaash two minutes to restore order. When the noise had died down enough to be heard, Hubrick Sha rumbled, “Governor, really! The Rite of Leadership is a relic of a barbaric practice that has been in disuse for generations! To enact it is a flagrant disregard for our current proper political process, not to mention an outright attack on my own –”

The Governor raised a hand, stalling the rest of Hubrick Sha’s sputtering. “Peace, Senator Sha.” Votaash trained their pale green eyes on Lethaa. “I believe you were still speaking, Representative Daal?”

“Yes, Governor.” She found that she was gripping the edge of her podium tightly, and forced the tension in her muscles to ease. “I recognize the origin of the Rite is unnecessarily vicious. There is no cause for the Senator and me to face each other in a lethal match of skill.” _Especially since we both know I’d win._ “I do not believe either of us wishes to die at the hands of the other. While I support the notion that only the strongest of us should lead, I concede that the elimination process is too extreme for the balance I hope to accomplish. What I propose instead is a similar test of skill. To represent our world in the Senate, the elected Senator must epitomize not only the values of our people, but our strength and skill as well. Therefore, in place of a duel to the death, I propose a hunt.”

Mutters broke out again, this time with a keen interest. Of all the traditions of the Togruta, hunting had been one that had never been at risk. It was not done as frequently now, and not everyone partook; but still, one in every ten young Togruta participated in a coming-of-age hunt, and it remained a requirement for any warrior or military personnel. And those who bested an akul on their own were still widely respected; Lethaa had a few prized akul teeth on her headdress to attest to that.

Votaash leaned forward in their seat, brow raised questioningly. Lethaa could almost hear her old mentor’s incredulous thoughts. _Did you consult with anyone about this? You couldn’t have come to me with this plan beforehand? Surprising people won’t always work in your favor, Lethaa._

The element of surprise always helped in a hunt. And this match for the senatorial seat between her and Sha _was_ a hunt. One that she intended to triumph in.

And as a matter of fact, yes, she _had_ consulted someone.

From one of the floor-level benches, an old woman stood, and a respectful hush fell over the Council. The yellow-skinned Togruta’s long white markings zigzagged across her wrinkled brow and cheekbones, her forward-angled montrals and knee-length lekku dwarfing her face. The eldest in the capital, the Shol’i had been Corvala’s primary spiritual leader for more than forty years. Lethaa did not know her real name, and doubted that there were any alive who did; the old woman was known only by her title.

Votaash seemed to realize that this bit, at least, had been orchestrated, and their red skin – the same hue as Lethaa’s – darkened as they flushed in exasperation. Rising from their seat, they bowed as the woman stepped up to the dais. “Shol’i. An honor, as always.”

“Thank you, Governor.” Her voice wavered, but only slightly.  The holocams zoomed around to get a better angle on her, but she ignored them. Instead, her watery violet eyes took in the two contenders. “Although calling for a modification of the Rite is unconventional, the reasoning behind it is sound.  Shili will accept it.” Her bare feet padded across the dias as she drew nearer. “As with all our traditions, I shall oversee the Rite of Leadership, should both sides agree that this is the proper course of action to continue the election of our planet’s Senator.”

Hubrick Sha’s eyes flickered around the stands and holocams; looking for inspiration or support, Lethaa couldn’t tell. Lethaa had backed him into a corner. She recognized that with a vague sense of indifference. _He may not have expected the challenge. But if he is to embody our people, he must do so in every way._ And she had never heard of him demonstrating any type of physical prowess. Though judging by the necklace of polished akul teeth around his throat, he must have been a hunter in his prime.   

Finally, he gave a booming laugh; Lethaa thought it sounded too loud to be genuine. “Of course, I will accept Representative Daal’s challenge. Our leader must be strong and capable, as I will demonstrate to the wise people of Shili.” He turned to the spiritual leader and bowed his head in deference. “What manner of prey shall we hunt, Shol’i? Akul?”

“Akul hunts are symbolic of commitment,” Shol’i mused. “However, this Rite reflects more than mere dedication. It requires the champion to demonstrate cunning, perseverance, and a willingness to devote one’s whole self to the betterment of our people. As such, each of you shall chose a creature anywhere in the galaxy you believe symbolizes what you intend to overcome in the Senate.”

Now that the initial shock had worn off, Hubrick Sha seemed to have warmed to the idea. He bestowed a winning smile on the crowd as he spread his arms wide, as though making a sweeping declaration. “Then I shall need transport to Cholganna. The nexu is a crafty beast that requires one to think on their feet. This is an ability I have demonstrated time and again in the Senate, finding work-arounds as I deal with corrupt diplomats and complicatedly worded legislation. The nexu is my choice of prey.”

Applause rang out from the Council, and Lethaa agreed with the sentiment. Nexu were notoriously dangerous, on par with the akul on Shili. He turned his smile on Lethaa, and she returned it, showing her pointed eye teeth. Hubrick Sha had filed his teeth down so they did not seem threatening to Humans. Lethaa thought that was ridiculous; had a Trandoshan ever been expected to file down its teeth to appear less threatening?

“A worthy choice,” Shol’i stated. “As the sitting Senator, you shall face the Rite first.” She focused on Lethaa. “And you, Representative Daal?”

But of course, the old woman already knew the answer. Lethaa _had_ consulted with her before enacting the Rite, after all; she needed to know if there were any restrictions on what creature she could face.

There weren’t.

The meetinghouse was silent as they waited for her to speak. Lethaa found she quite enjoyed the anticipation. “There will indeed be individuals in the Senate who require outwitting, but there are many others who are simply stubborn enough that no manner of delicately worded speech will sway them. With those individuals, direct action and tangible consequences are the only avenues that will motivate change and progress. Persistence, as well as cunning and force of will, an unyielding resolve, will enable this. For this reason, I shall face the Rite on Felucia.”

Hubrick Sha frowned. “Felucia?” he asked, his voice cutting through the whispers of the assembly.

“Yes.” Lethaa smiled again. “It is, after all, the homeworld of the rancor beast.”


	2. Family Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lethaa returns to her family's home after enacting the Rite of Leadership in her bid for senatorship. They let her know what they think of her decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been sitting in my word docs for months - I finally decided to sit down and write the last page and a half. Feels a little bit rushed, but I said most of what needed to be said. Enjoy!

“A rancor? _A rancor_?”

“Yes, Father,” Lethaa repeated patiently.

“You couldn’t have chosen – ” he waved a hand in the general direction of the rest of the galaxy “ – _anything else?_ ”

“I needed something that would make an impression.”

“Oh,” Lethaa’s sister interjected as she nursed her son, “you’re certainly going to make an impression. In the dirt. After the rancor squashes you.”

The tension in the room seemed to spike, but only Barin responded. “This is not a joke, Veeri,” their father snapped.

“I didn’t say it was.”

He fell back onto his overstuffed cushion with a drawn-out sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The family was reclined around the low center table, sitting and lying on comfortable cushions as they ate. Veeri’s husband had prepared a delicious meal of thimiars and ap’yn crop, with singfruit for dessert. Corlani thought he was discreet in passing the singfruit to the children before the meal started, but the only one who didn’t see was Grandmother Taali. Sitting at the head of the table, the matriarch had been largely silent since Lethaa had returned to the family home earlier in the evening, weathered face drawn into a frown as she concentrated on her food.

“I’m a bit offended you didn’t give us a heads up,” one of her uncles said around a mouthful of thimiar. His doleful voice made it difficult for Lethaa to tell if he was being serious. “We shouldn’t have had to find out via the holonet you wanted to be rancor chow. So exactly how long have you had a death wish?”

Barin’s head whipped around to glare at his brother. “Don’t speak to my daughter that way,” he warned.

Beside him, Nohna laid a shaking hand on her husband’s arm. “He has a point, my love.” She turned her amber eyes on Lethaa. “Why didn’t you tell us what you were planning?”

Lethaa chewed her thimiar slowly as she thought. She could speak to crowds with ease, had no qualms addressing staggering congregations. But addressing her family was always so…difficult. Not because they themselves were difficult, but because they cared so much. She valued them more than anything, and she had to wrestle daily with striking a balance between her loyalty to them and her political aspirations. Even though she was well into adulthood, Lethaa often found herself feeling like an adolescent under her parents’ gazes.

“I didn’t know if any of you would approve of my decision to enact the Rite. We may follow our people’s ways, but I know I follow them more… stringently than you. You would have tried to talk me out of it. And that would have put me in the position of either abandoning the campaign, or disobeying the family’s wishes. And that was not a choice I wanted to make.”

After a moment, Grandmother Taali leaned forward on her cushion. “You may live your life as you wish, Lethaa.” Around the table, the young ones halted their antics and fell into polite silence. “You know we will always support the old ways, and your decisions. But my main concern is not the Rite. It’s a reasonable test of skill, and I approve of your modification; there is no sense in wasting life. But your _choice_ of prey is excessive.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Veeri interjected. She fell silent under Nohna’s quelling look. Scowling, Veeri gently pried the baby away from her breast and readjusted her tunic.

“A rancor –”

“Yes, Father, a rancor,” Lethaa said, trying to be lighthearted.

“ _A rancor_ –” Barin glared at the interruption “ – is incredibly dangerous. From what I’ve heard, not even the native Felucians actively hunt them.”

“No, but they tame them.”

Veeri cocked her head. “Oh, is that what you’re planning?”

“What?”

“You’re going to ‘hunt’ a tamed rancor? Devious, but whatever gets you the election.” She popped the ap’yn into her mouth.

Lethaa felt her nostrils flare as her cheeks burned with indignation. “I would _never._ No, I only mention it because it proves that the beasts can be beaten.”

Her sister shrugged, beginning to bounce her son on her knee. “Well, you should do my idea instead.”

“Veeri, please,” Nohna sighed in exasperation.

“Now, Lethaa, darling,” an elder aunt called from further down the table, “what happens from here?”

Lethaa settled back on her cushion. “Arrangements are being made; the government office is reaching out to ensure our envoy will be permitted to hunt on the worlds. Votaash, the Shol’i, the High Council, and a few others will be accompanying me and Hubrick Sha to Cholganna first. He will face the Rite, then we will travel to Felucia.”

One of her nephews beamed. “And you’ll kill the rancor and get to be senator!”

Lethaa couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “That is the hope.”

“Will we get to watch? Will they air it on the Holonet?”

She hadn’t considered it. The thought of having an audience made her uneasy, but… “I believe there will be a recording crew there, yes.”

“If you’re senator,” an adolescent second-cousin wondered aloud, “do you have to move?”

Her smile faltered. “Yes.”

“To Corvala?”

“No. To Coruscant.”

Across the table, her niece’s eyes widened. “But…but that’s so _far_!”

Nohna patted the child’s tiny montrals. “She knows, dear.”

“Well, we’d move with you. Right, Auntie Lethaa?” the same nephew asked, his tone suddenly anxious. “The whole family? We’d all come to Coruscant with you.”

Lethaa felt a knot of apprehension in her gut, and tried to ignore it. “No. The family would remain here. Your place is here on Shili.”

“You…you’d be all alone?”

“Yes,” Veeri chimed in. Her voice was icy. “She wants to be all alone on a distant planet, far from Shili and her family, surrounded by durasteel and smog and backstabbing politicians who care more about credits than their own people.”

“ _Enough_ ,” Lethaa snarled, her heart racing. _That’s not what I want, I don’t want to leave, but –_

Her sister made a noise that was half a growl, half a sigh, and she thrust her infant into her husband’s arms. Before anyone could utter a word, she rose and stalked from the table, disappearing into the central hallway.

“ _Veeri,_ ” Lethaa uttered, leaping to her feet.

Waving for everyone to stay sitting, she raced after her, hearing a small panicked voice at the table ask, “That’s not true, is it?”, and adults hastily assuring the children that no, of course Auntie Lethaa didn’t want to leave.

The hallway widened into the foyer, sunlight streaming in from the skylights above and leaving rungs of light on the wood floor. The orange-skinned woman was nearly to the staircase by the time Lethaa caught up to her. “Running to your room?” Lethaa called, nails biting into her palms has her hands curled into fists. “Isn’t that a bit childish?”

Lethaa didn’t expect her to rise to the bait, and she was correct; Veeri merely made an obscene gesture and continued striding away.

“What was that all about?” Lethaa demanded.

“Just telling the truth,” came the clipped reply.

“Do you think I _want_ to be away from home? Do you think I _want_ to be lightyears away from all of you? I get homesick just spending a week in the capital! But I think I can help our people, Veeri, and that requires some sacrifice on my part.”

“Sacrifices,” she spat, coming to a halt on the bottom step. “It’s not just on _your_ part. What you do affects the family.”

“I understand that –”

Veeri spun on her heel, blue-marked lekku swinging. “I don’t want to lose you, you idiot! I don’t want to lose you like we lost Bershah! And that’s exactly what you’ve set yourself up for.” Her voice broke, and Lethaa’s heart froze.

And there it was. The name that no one had brought up, the name she’d been hoping no one would invoke. Lethaa felt like the air had been sucked from her lungs, and she could only stare back at her sister.

When she finally forced out the words, they came as little more than a whisper. “Is it the Rite, or my leaving, that upsets you more?”

“I lose you either way.” Veeri crossed her arms tightly in front of her, her gaze baleful. “Either you get torn to shreds by some beast worlds away, or you move to Coruscant and forget about us.”

“I would never forget you.”

Veeri scoffed. “Do you know how often Hubrick Sha contacts his family? On The Sacred Day. Once a _year_.”

“I am not Hubrick Sha,” Lethaa said fiercely.

“But you’ll be as busy as him. Meetings and deals, and debates and dinners – you’ll be lucky if you get a full night’s sleep, much less free time to come home –”

“I will _make_ time.” Lethaa strode up to her sister and laid her hands on her shoulders, relieved when she didn’t pull away. “You all mean the world to me. I could never abandon you. And I _will_ survive the Rite.” She managed a smile. “You’ve said so yourself: I’m a great hunter.”

“Bershah was a great hunter too,” Veeri choked, tears starting to well in her eyes as she tilted her head back to look at her. “The Elders said he was the best on Shili. That didn’t matter. I can’t lose you too, Lethie.”

Tears burned Lethaa’s own eyes, and she pulled her older sister into a hug. They held each other for a long moment, and Lethaa felt her frustration with Veeri melt away. Veeri had always been snide when she was scared, and felt slighted when she wasn’t consulted. On all counts, Lethaa recognized that she had been in the wrong. But she had come too far now to turn back.

“Bershah –” the name caught in her throat, and she had to suck in another breath before she could continue – “Bershah was as capable a hunter as any Togruta could ever be. Shili called him home, through no fault of his own. And he died defending those who could not protect themselves – there is no higher honor. But I could not be doing this – could not have the support that I have, could not have made it this far – if I was not _meant_ to be doing this.”

Veeri shook her head as she drew back. “You saw his body, Lethaa. You saw how the akul pack mutilated him. The thought of what might happen to you if you do this…”

Lethaas’ stomach twisted. When they had laid their elder brother to rest in the catacombs of Mount Veshii’l, she almost couldn’t handle the sight of his body, torn to ribbons by the talons and teeth of the most dangerous predators on the planet. An entire Togrutan family had managed to escape because of his sacrifice; but that only marginally eased the pain.

“If – _if_ I do fail,” Lethaa responded slowly, “then it will be because Shili wills it. And should I succeed, it will be proof that this is what I am mean to do.”

Veeri rested her forehead on Lethaa’s shoulder and sighed. “You put so much faith in destiny. I don’t understand it.”

“I don’t either,” Lethaa admitted, earning an incredulous stare from her sister. “But it’s what I believe –and if I don’t have that, then this galaxy is a hopeless place indeed.” She squeezed her shoulders. “Come back to dinner. You haven’t eaten anything yet.”

“My stomach’s in knots. I’m too nervous for you. I can’t possibly eat.”

Lethaa gave her a gentle shove. “The Rite won’t be for another week at least, so you’ll have plenty of time to be nervous for me.”

Veeri preceded her back into the dining room, and Lethaa made a reassuring gesture to the rest of the family. They all eased back to their cushions as the sisters joined them.

Barin leaned forward, putting his broad hand over Lethaa’s. His eyes looked sad. “There’s no way I can talk you out of this?”

“No, Father,” she replied gently. “My choice is made. I understand that it is not easy, but I ask that you respect it.”

He sighed and nodded. Nohna’s trembling hand joined them.

“If there’s anything we can do for you, _la’nee_ , you tell us.”

A lump rose in Lethaa’s throat as she bent down and kissed her parents’ hands. She straightened up and beamed at the rest of her family, laughing as her youngest niece toddled up and threw her arms around her arm, proclaiming, “I’ll help, Auntie!”

“I know you will.” Lethaa kissed the child’s forehead, then met each family member’s eyes. “Thank you. All of you.”

They dwelt in the moment a few seconds more, and Lethaa could practically feel the love and affection that tethered her to her family. She was forever thankful for their compassion and understanding, for their support in everything she had ever attempted. _Shili protect and guide them all._  

They had continued their meal with more palatable conversation, and ten minutes later, Lethaa’s personal comm chimed. When she checked the signature, her heart skipped a beat.

“Is it Naras?” Veeri asked, breaking off her last piece of ap’yn.

She started in surprise, heat rushing to her face. “No – yes. Yes. How did you know?”

A cheeky smile pulled at Veeri’s lips. “You have that dopey smile on your face.”

“Oh, hush.” Lethaa tossed a piece of singfruit at her as her nieces and nephews giggled. “She’s wondering if I’m home.”

Her sister paused, a funny look crossing her face. “You did tell _her_ about your plan, right?”

“No,” Lethaa said as she messaged back an affirmative response. “The only one who knew was the Shol’i. Why?”

Veeri rolled her eyes. “Shili’s soil, Lethaa. You are _dense_.”

Lethaa frowned. Before she could ask what she meant, furious knocking echoed from the foyer. “Are we expecting guests?”

Nohna glanced around. “No. Lethaa, would you?”

“Of course, Mother.” Rising, she paced down the central hall to the foyer, straight to the arching wooden door.

Lethaa pulled open the door and her heart stuttered.

A short, turquoise-skinned Togruta woman stood in the doorway, bright green eyes flashing dangerously. Her mouth was twisted into a scowl, wrinkling the white facial markings that arched from the bridge of her nose to the corners of her lips. Her normally chipper face seemed to simmer with anger, which both enticed and alarmed Lethaa.

Naras Tyn – Lethaa’s girlfriend – planted her hands on her hips and hissed, “We need to talk.”


End file.
